


There She Goes Again

by stillwaitingforaliens



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Crushes, F/M, Flash Fic, in which I make fun of myself for having a type, no beta we die like Glenn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-03
Updated: 2020-02-03
Packaged: 2021-02-28 06:20:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 913
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22549201
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stillwaitingforaliens/pseuds/stillwaitingforaliens
Summary: "There are three things Jeralt Eisner is sure of: One, beer is good. Two, he's never going back to Garreg Mach and the Church of Seiros. Three, his daughter has a type."Jeralt watches as Claude captures his daughter's affections and she captures his.
Relationships: Byleth/Claude (implied), My Unit | Byleth/Claude von Riegan
Comments: 6
Kudos: 236





	There She Goes Again

**Author's Note:**

> I had [this](https://writingforaliens.tumblr.com/post/190366725810/i-was-talking-to-my-sister-last-night-she-doesnt#notes) conversation with my sister and mom and this just spilled out. I'm finally getting around to posting it.
> 
> I'm looking for a title for part 3 of _Arrow of Carnations_ and then I'll probably get to posting that. (Speaking of which, if anyone wants to beta it, lemme know!)

There are three things Jeralt Eisner is sure of: One, beer is good. Two, he's never going back to Garreg Mach and the Church of Seiros. Three, his daughter has a type. Byleth may never really smile and instead stare stoically at almost everything and everyone, but put a dark haired, handsome male in front of her and she makes puppy eyes. If he opens his mouth and proves witty and amusing, she melts. 

Jeralt first noticed it when she was nine. She wouldn't bother to say a word to anyone but the dark haired sons of clients. Byleth would try to start sword fights with them, her only way of expressing interest. It was his fault, and he knew it, but he didn't make much of the pattern until she was twelve. Their client was a young lord with a perpetual five-o-clock shadow and dark hair tied into a low tail. Byleth’s round eyes got bigger and rounder as she followed the man with her gaze, entranced. A few months later, the client’s fourteen year old son, a boy with curly brown hair and dark eyes asked if he could see her sword and she nodded with too much enthusiasm and held the weapon out for inspection. 

Byleth never acted on impulse, thank fate, but her eyes would follow the men with the dark, thick hair, short, scruffy beards, and roguish faces. If the man carried a weapon and knew how to use it or if he revealed that he could battle with words as well as weapons, he’d have twice the attention. Jeralt would inspect the taverns and make bets with himself as to who she’d latch onto for the evening. He was rarely wrong. 

She was eighteen before a dare from one of his troops sent her up to talk to one of these men. Jeralt tried to not immediately intervene, but when they left out the front door of the tavern, he jumped up and followed. Thankfully, they were just racing each other on horseback, but he still warned her of the dangers of strange men. 

“You don’t seem to form emotional attachments, but they might. And not to mention the difficulties of a baby. It’s better to not get involved.”

“Papa, I am not going to sleep with them! I know better than that,” she responded.

Jeralt trusted that Byleth was smart enough to not let it get to that point, but a father would always worry. It was the nature of being a father. He worried about her on the battlefield and worried about her when she was making eyes at a boy and worried about her when she mentioned her nightmares. 

So when a young man, no more than a couple years her junior, with thick, dark hair and skill with a bow interrupts their lives, Jeralt knows what comes next. She waits until after the skirmish, but Byleth’s eyes go round and she looks at the boy from the Alliance three times as much as the other two. She doesn’t know where she was born, but he’s not surprised she claims the Alliance was her birthplace. He refuses to slap his forehead with his palm.

When they return to Garreg Mach, against his better judgement, he watches his daughter walk in step with Claude and  _ that _ feeling creeps up his neck. And when she agrees to teach at the Officers’ Academy and picks the Golden Deer House as her class, he resists the urge to bang his head against a wall. 

Byleth is old enough, and has been for a long while, to make her own decisions. Still, Jeralt takes her aside and reminds her, “You’re their professor now, kiddo. You can’t play favorites or behave in a way inappropriate for that position.”

She rolls her eyes. She actually rolls her eyes, the most emotion he’s seen out of her in months. “Papa…”

He leaves her alone after the one warning.

But when Claude von Reigan starts making eyes at his daughter, he has to do something. Byleth is responsible, but she’s never had this long around around an object of her affection. He swore he caught her  _ fluttering her eyelashes _ at him over tea the other day. Jeralt finds the young man outside the training grounds. 

“Duke Reigan, do you know what you’re doing?”

He blinks. “I guess I could use more lessons...”

“I’m not referring to your archery skills. I’m referring to your intentions with my daughter.”

“Uh...What?”

Jeralt straightens and crosses his arms. 

“Sir, I have no intentions with your daughter.” At least the kid has the sense to look nervous. “She’s a teacher, I’m a student, and I have no intentions beyond friendship.”

Jeralt exhales. “Kid, just...Don’t hurt her, ok? Respect her, and wait until you’ve graduated.” He turns and leaves. There’s nothing he can do at this point except wait for Claude to graduate and hope Byleth doesn’t follow him. He’s not a bad kid, but he’s not ready to give his daughter up like that just yet. Then again, Claude has gotten her to smile and even laugh more in a few months than she has in perhaps her whole life. 

If there’s a goddess, Jeralt prays that the two of them won’t do anything too stupid, like get kicked out of the academy or…He stops the thought. He’s not ready for grandkids yet, even if they’d probably be the cutest…

Nope. Not ready at all.

**Author's Note:**

> You can follow me on my [tumblr](https://writingforaliens.tumblr.com/) for my sporadic updates, writing previews, doodles, and hijinks.


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